Reminiscence

He remembers the mornings the two of them spent in his house, it took them three tries to get it right after all. They were friends, and then they talked about other people, and then they talked about

it

, you know, they both watched enough of it on the Internet and they know how to do it and also who was doing it with whom. She'd never seen a boy naked, and she was only the second girl he'd ever undressed. They talked about it, then, and did it over instant messaging in that strange mesmerising way, seducing each other with text on a screen, one hand on the keyboard and the other in their pants.

And even then it took them three tries to get it right. She came to his home and there was normal conversation and they went out for lunch, but never made it back. The second time she came they went into his bedroom but never touched the bed, and he didn't quite dare to lay a finger on her. And she, she was shy as well, even though she wanted it, wanted him, she didn't know how to start.

Third time lucky,

as they say, and so suddenly as they were sitting side by side at a table she hugged him, and, not knowing what to expect, he laid his hand on her breast.

It was very quick after that. She felt his fingers find her nipple and moaned, and she pulled his shirt off him, and he almost lifted her bodily, so eager were they to get into the bedroom. She undressed to her underthings and pushed him into bed, pulled off his shorts and noticed that his cock was straining at the elastic of his briefs, and giggled in excitement. He remembers the sunlight; she was lit from behind by the rays in the dusty room where, in a corner, laundry was hung out to dry. And she let him undo the clasp on her bra and slowly pull her girlishly unmatching underwear down, and they were both gloriously naked, him just starting to put a little weight on, and she, lithe, expectant, already moist, small breasts heaving, nipples hard.

And they lay side by side and face to face on the bed, his hand on her waist, trying to control his trembling, and she, not knowing what to do with her hands anymore, clasping them to her chest as if trying to hide her nudity. They know not to have sex; it's risky, and neither of them have any experience with it. But they try. She suddenly reaches to touch his cock and he shudders, asking her to grasp it more firmly. He aches, and she pushes him over onto his back, gets up, and straddles him, all the while squeezing that hardness she finds flattering.

They have spoken about masturbation, they discovered it at an early age: she did when she started rocking her chair at school and really,

really

liked the feeling, and he thought it was a method to make extra pee come out at night. And so they keep doing it, even after they learnt the real biology of those actions. They have flirted agonisingly online, each dropping hints until the girl thinks – fuck it, let me do this – and now they are here, she is seated on his thighs, body taut as a rubber band, and the air is warm.

She moves to put her cunt on his cock, and he feels her wetness. Both start moving together, bound in the rhythm of an ancestral knowledge. She is wet, deliciously squelching against him, knowing he likes this and that he has wanted her, and he, pinned under her, is enjoying this ride, he is bouncing her up and down and sliding her back and forth, enjoying the feel of her skin, the sweat they are making, and the way she collapses on him when she comes, breasts pressed in between them like soft pillows.

He pushes her over, kisses her neck, licks the mounds of her chest, suckles on her nipples. She arches and moans, and his cock presses against her opening. They look at each other and agree that won't happen, so he simply teases the sweet spot with his tip. She wants a kiss, and he says no – those are only for his girlfriend, he says, and she's okay with that, so he gets on top of her and they grind and he comes on her body like she wants. She rubs it into her stomach, laughing, both breathing hard from their exertion and the sheer crazy futility of it all. They know pleasure, now, she does, unlike his bumbling first fumbles with another youthful lass hidden away in the corners of their school in the steamy afternoons.

They wash together; she comments on how she has never felt it be this good, and he laughs and pulls her close under the shower, deliberately sticking his cock in between her legs. They pretend to fuck, relishing the pumping actions they've always seen and admired, and the slapping sounds. She towels off with his towel, making a point of running the whole length along her cunt, and while he dries, picks their clothes up off the floor. She leaves. He goes back into the room, opens the windows as wide as they possibly will go. The room smells of sex and human exertion, and it is pleasurable; the sunlight streams in now, but the dust remains. His body glistens still with moisture.

***

They go at it again, a week later. She teases him, saying she's bought new underwear, a matching set, and will wear it for him. He eagerly awaits her arrival, timing the trains carefully, throwing the front door open when he hears her footsteps. It's faster for them now. Once the door is closed they throw themselves at each other, him still carefully avoiding kissing her, she already pulling his shirt off, demanding he get naked first again. They settle in front of his computer, and she, fully clothed, sits on his lap, while surfing for pornography. Something good comes up, so they watch it together, and he tugs at her top, saying

take it off for me,

so she does. She starts squeezing her own breasts, while he holds on to her waist. After a while he's aching from the hardness and the smell of her skin close to his, so he stands her up and pulls her jeans off.

They stand in front of the long mirror for a while, admiring each other's bodies. Her hand reaches for his cock again, but he dances away, and comes at her from behind, embracing her tightly. The underwear is turquoise, with little black ribbons. He lifts her off the floor this time, carrying her to the bedroom while tickling her tummy with his nose, and they laugh when both of them crash into bed together. She gets on top of him again, and they do the same things, he touches her all over, nibbles at her hands, holds her breasts in his palms, all while she moves on top of him, spreading her wetness all over his cock and balls.

She comes, and he sits up, but she pushes him down, saying she wants to come again, and they go at it so fast this time he pulls her down on top of him and pounds their bodies together. She whimpers in pleasure, and when she is done she gets up and scoots lower down his body, and his eyes widen in shock when he sees his thing disappearing into her mouth, and her head bobbing up and down on top of it. (Later they joke. She says

I've yet to kiss a boy but I've already put your dick in my mouth.)

He moves the rest of her body over, and spreads her thighs, licking what's there in front of him, and they both shudder. He is close to coming, and he warns her, so eventually she finishes him off by hand, him shooting all over himself, and her rubbing it all over his stomach like she did to herself the last time.

They shower. The sunlight is dusty in the room again. They embrace after drying, both naked, while she says she doesn't like her body and he takes her left hand and her right breast and squeezes both. They never do it again, though she is to expose herself to him and him to her online, telling each other their sweet perversions. And after this they are no longer friends, even though he tries to remind her how much pleasure she had in his arms while she was moaning under his ministrations, head held between her legs, tongue flicking at her centre. They never speak again, because the elephant in the room is too large, their tryst too close for comfort. They know how each other looks naked, and he never forgets; he hopes she never does as well. They see each other in real life twice, three times in four years after that, and it will be even more awkward than when both of them stood in his bedroom and dared not do anything.